Category: Food & Drink

Stupid Customers, like the rest of us have to eat and drink. Sadly like the rest of us, they sometimes eat with the rest of us. For every waiter, server, drive-thru operator, coffee shop barista, and restaurant manager who has had to deal with fake allergies, vegetarians who don’t know the meaning of the word and idiots who have yet to understand the concept of clearly listed ingredients, we salute you!

(I’m half-Chinese, but with my sunglasses on, people usually can’t tell. I’m fluent in Mandarin. One day I get a text from my friend, a grade-school teacher.)

Friend: “You speak Chinese, right?”

Me: “Yeah, why?”

Friend: “Come down to [intersection] around noon and explain what the f*** is going on.”

(At my lunch break I head down there. On one side of the street is a crowd of school kids, while on the other side an elderly Chinese man with an ice cream cart.)

Kid #1: “I’m gonna do it.”

Kid #2: “No way.”

Kid #1: “Yeah way. I’m fast enough!”

Kid #2: “You’re not Chinese.”

Kid #1: “So?”

Kid #2: “Only [Chinese name] can do it.”

Kid #1: “I’m gonna do it.”

(Kid #1 dashes across the street, yanks back the cover of the cart, and grabs a handful of ice cream. He takes off, but the vendor catches him, pinning both arms behind his back.)

Vendor: “Ah, three bars? Your total is $9.28.”

Kid #1: “Lemme go!”

(The vendor removes some money from the kid’s pocket with his free hand.)

Vendor: “Cash paid is $20.”

Kid #1: “Yeah, yeah, I know the drill.”

(While still holding the struggling kid, the vendor deposits the $20 in his till and takes out change.)

Vendor: “Your change is $10.72.”

(The vendor puts the change and ice creams in a bag and hands them to the kid, who takes off.)

Vendor: “Have a nice day!”

Kid #2: “Told you.”

Kid #1: “Fine! Okay, [Chinese name], you do it!”

(A short Chinese boy steps forward. His clothes are patched and despite the weather, he’s not wearing a coat.)

Chinese Kid: “Let us meditate… on the way of the wind.”

(He strikes a ridiculous pose and exhales loudly. The other kids jump back.)

Chinese Kid: “…on the way of the snake…”

(New pose, hissing loudly. The others back away even more.)

Chinese Kid: “…on the way of the hawk.”

(He flaps his arms and jumps in a circle. The kids are a good twenty feet away now.)

Chinese Kid: “The meditation is done.”

(He runs up to the ice cream vendor and grabs a handful of bars. The vendor strikes him with an exaggerated karate chop which the kid easily blocks.)

Chinese kid:*flees, speaking Chinese* “Thank you, Mr. [Name]!”

Vendor:*shakes his fist angrily, also in Chinese* “Sorry, we are out of lime today!”

(The Chinese kid kicks towards the vendor from across the street.)

Chinese kid: “My mother says she hopes your leg feels better!”

Vendor:*red-faced with rage* “It does! Tell her thank you for the tea!”

(The kids are enthralled. As they eat the ice cream, I approach the vendor.)

Me:*in Chinese* “What just happened?”

Vendor: “Oh… you understood. That little boy is a new immigrant, and all the other children mocked him because he is small and weak. He told them Chinese people have special powers, and they beat him up and told him to prove it. But I overheard and whispered to him to rob me. Now we have a deal.”

Me: “How wonderful!” *pointing behind him* “Hey, can you tell what that is?”

(As he turns around, I drop some money on the cart and grab a bar of ice cream, fleeing.)

Vendor: “You forgot your change!”

Me:*shakes my fist* “It’s a tip!”

Kids: “Whoa! How did you do that?”

(I slip off my sunglasses. The Chinese kid bows to me and I bow back.)

Kid #2: “Told you they have special powers. Never bully a Chinese kid, man. Never!”

Me: “Unfortunately, she was correct and we are unable to do that. Only one in every nine pieces of chicken is a breast piece, and in order to fill your request we would have to cook an extra 81 pieces, which would severely affect our profit margin. Could I suggest the fillet—”

Customer: “You’re a f***ing f** aren’t you? You’re one of those queers!”

Me: “Sir, I’m going to have to ask that—”

Customer: “F***ing f** boy!”

(The customer then descends into a tirade of graphic descriptions of the sexual acts he would expect me to perform as a homosexual. I’m finding it difficult to maintain composure at this point.)

Me: “Sir, if you do not stop immediately I’m going to have to call the police.”

Customer: “You wanna fight me, f** boy? I’ll f***ing kill you.”

(The customer gets out of his car and lunges at the window. I slam it shut and lock it.)

Customer: “Come out here and fight me, you queer!”

Me: “Sir, I cannot help you any more. Please leave my drive-thru immediately or I will call the police.”

Customer: “You can’t make me! Give me my f***ing chicken!”

(I pull out my phone and dial the police. As I’m explaining the situation, the customer has reverted to his tirade of sexual comments aimed at me.)

Me: “The police are on their way. You can either leave the store now or be removed.”

Customer: “You little f**! I’ll be back f** boy, just you f***ing wait!”

(The customer roars off. I’m shaking and my voicing is cracking at this point, having maintained composure for so long, but I stay at the serving window so I can explain the delay to the next few customers, and apologise to the next car, who witnessed the entire episode.)

Me: “Hi, welcome to [fast food restaurant], I’m so sorry about the delay there, I was un—”

(A young gay couple has become my favorite regulars at the small restaurant where I work. One day as I am talking with them, an older, more conservative-looking man walks past us to the To-Go pickup area. He stops short next to us, and in the same moment, I see one of the young guys look down with a panicked expression at where he is holding his boyfriend’s hand.)

Older Man: “I’m sorry, I’m being rude.” *offers his hand to James’ boyfriend* “I’m Mike, James’s boss. Very nice to meet you. We all love James in the office.”

James’ Boyfriend: “Oh! Nice to meet you too! You know, James is always talking about how much he looks up to you.”

(James is so visibly relieved that he is near tears. The three makes some more small talk before the older man heads off to pick up his lunch. I end up taking his payment and he quietly asks me to pay for James and his boyfriend’s meal as well.)

Older Man: “You know… when I was growing up, I was taught that being gay was bad, a sin. But that young man is the brightest kid I’ve ever known, and I can’t see a d*** thing wrong with him…” *pauses* “…or his boyfriend.”

(He smiles at me and then walks away without another word. To this day, I can’t think about the look on James’s face when I told him that his boss paid for his nearly $100 meal without wanting to cry.)

(I have returned from delivering a pizza to the last customer of the night. Upon returning to the store, it is after closing time, so we begin cleaning and closing the store. The phone rings; we normally don’t answer the phone after closing time, but since I recognized the name on the caller ID as my last delivery, I decide to answer it.)

Me: “Thanks for calling [restaurant]. I’m sorry we’re closed, but how can I help you?”

Customer: “Yeah, I just had a pizza delivered and there’s a problem.”

Me: “I’m sorry to hear that. What is the problem, exactly?”

Customer: “Well, this has got to be some sort of joke or something.”

Me: “Okay, what is the problem?”

Customer: “I just sat down to eat my sausage pizza, and 7 of the 8 pieces are just fine, but the 8th piece doesn’t have any sausage on it.”

Me: “I’m sorry, that shouldn’t have happened. How about I give you a $2 discount on your next purchase?”

Customer: “Sure.”

Me: “Okay, sorry again. Have a nice night.”

(Before I can even turn around to walk away, the same caller ID rings again, so I answer.)

Customer:*yelling very angrily* “I’m so mad right now! I can’t believe what I’m looking at! What, are you messing with me not putting sausage on one of the pieces of my pizza?!”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, it was an accident. Sausages are small and round, I’m sure after they were put on the pizza they rolled around when the cheese was applied. How about instead of a $2 discount, I mark you account for a free pizza on your next order? Would that fix it for you?”

Customer:*calm now* “Yeah, that would be great, thanks.”

(We once again finish the call and hang up. Again before I can turn around the phone rings with the same caller ID so I answer and greet the caller.)

Customer: “YOU MUST BE PLAYING A JOKE ON ME! This must have been done on purpose! I’m gonna come down there and cut your heads off!”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir! I just wanted to remind you that you’ll get a free pizza on your next order. Is that okay?”

Customer:*calms down again* “Yeah, thanks.”

(I quickly got off the phone while he was calm. We then quickly locked up and went home for the night without cleaning up the store, in case he was truly coming down to cut our heads off.)